Chapter 64

"Good morning!", Steve smiled as he saw me, wearing only shorts, already waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. Aside from his smile and his more than happy eyes as always, he seemed unusually excited, and the reason for this was no mystery from the way he looked at me. Even with all the conflicts I was harboring inside me and feeling my emotions a bit shaky, I couldn't help but let a smile light up my face as soon as I saw him.

"Good morning," I spoke in an amused tone, stopping at the last step to stand at the same height as him and returning his affectionate kiss. "Gee, a comb went a long way from here, I imagine."

I held his shoulders, squaring him in front of me with cold sweaty hands, and he stared at me with doubt in his expression and considerably disheveled hair. I took advantage of the fact that the towel I had used to dry my hair was still on my shoulders and put it over his head, rubbing it through his hair and dampening it, more to play with it than to actually fix it. When I took the towel off, with a playful face, I found a pink, confused and extremely sexy Steve staring at me, with his hair still messy.

In an extremely, painfully, ironically Nicholas-like way.

"Is that better?" he asked, with a disbelieving smile and a raised eyebrow, only making my situation worse. Heavenly Father really loved to see me in trouble. What have I done to deserve such an ordeal?

"Very much," I confirmed, nodding once and ignoring the similarity between my teachers' hair styles. I don't think even prostitutes should suffer like that.

"Hm... If you say so," Steve shrugged, a little cross-eyed from looking up in vain effort to see his own hair, and then looking at me. "Hungry?"

As soon as he said those two words, my stomach churned. I bit my lower lip, still sore from the night before (enough about that damned night! Nicholas Cassano no longer exists!) and made a face like a puppy without an owner.

"Awn," Steve smiled, finding my face cute and making an even cuter face, "You don't even have to answer, love, let's go get our breakfast."

He turned his back on me, indicating that he would carry me to the kitchen, and I didn't even think about declining the invitation, letting him carry me with an almost childish expression. Besides, being carried on Steve's bare back was much more pleasant than straining my aching legs to walk across the cold floor.

"I can't believe it... Omelet?", I asked, taking a deep breath to smell the good smell of his food as I sat down (read: was deposited like a fragile cargo) in one of the chairs at the dining table. "Just your omelet?"

"That's right, just my omelet," he laughed, walking over to the stove, pulling a large omelet out of a pan of the same size and placing it on a plate for me. "Just the way you like it."

Steve walked over to me with my plate, and as he placed it in front of me, he kissed me hard on the neck, taking advantage of the fact that I had just put a loose bun in my hair. He moved away again to get his breakfast, and I, still laughing at his manner, helped myself to the orange juice on the table.

"Hm, did you by any chance raid the fridge last night?" he asked distractedly as he cut into his omelet after a few minutes of eating, and my danger meter beeped. "The strawberries I had seen in there were on top of the sink when I woke up."

I tried very hard not to choke on my food at that moment, and swallowed the omelet almost whole with great effort, unable to chew it properly in the fear that his question had caused me. I had forgotten to put the strawberries away. That sucks.

"Yeah, I...," I stammered, staring at my omelet and trying to sound casual. "I got hungry and... I ended up eating some strawberries... I'm sorry."

It wasn't only strawberries that were eaten that night, but I preferred to omit that part of the story. Focus, Lilie!

"It's okay, Lil," Steve smiled, not noticing any difference in my manner, as usual (he should learn that trusting me was getting dangerous). "I should have been responsible and cooked us something last night."

We ate quietly after my panic crisis dissipated, and the next thing I knew, we were planning how our day would be in a more pleasant climate, at least for him. The sun reigned absolute in the blue sky, the sea looked extremely inviting in the considerable heat, and our plans for the next few hours involved exactly these factors. Beach, sun, sea and rest. Well, physical rest was guaranteed for both of us, but mental... Yeah, I guess only Steve could enjoy that.

"Hey, kid, come here," I called as soon as we left the house, holding my teacher (who now looked more like an elementary school student, such was his animation) by the arm when he made mention of running to the beach.

He rolled his eyes, looking like a frowning child, and I laughed as I rubbed sunscreen on his back. When it was my turn to rub his front, which I made sure to do, he closed his eyes and smiled perversely, taking advantage of my touches. If he could enjoy the same situation before we left the house by rubbing me with sunscreen (and taking half an hour just to do it), I had every right to do the same to him (and take as long as I wanted too).

"You know, I'm wearing a bathing suit," he remarked, as I was gingerly patting his thighs a little more slowly than necessary. Comfortable if you keep teasing me like this.

I rolled my eyes, smiling, and complied with his request. I placed some of the sunscreen on my palm, and with my index finger, dabbed some on Steve's nose and cheeks, returning his amused look. I spread a little more on his face, and the rest I put on his shoulders, the area where you can never protect too much.